by Jen Gilroy
“I didn’t see you two at the Rotary Club meeting.” He cringed like the teenage boy he’d once been. It had been so long he’d forgotten how to make small talk with women. Or maybe it was only one woman. Cat and Georgia hadn’t been at the meeting. There was no way he’d have missed Cat if she’d been in the same room as him. Even when she sat in the bleachers at Amy’s coaching sessions, he was aware of her every move.
“The Rotary Club is for stuffy business types like you and Nick.” Georgia gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m teaching exercise classes at the health spa, and Cat’s holed up in the Inn’s archives. I just told her she needs to get off her butt and go outside in that gorgeous sunshine. Poring over those musty papers all day long will make her vitamin D deficient.”
“I do go outside.” Cat’s cheeks were as pink as her sweater. “And those musty papers are an important part of Vermont’s history. Do you know how many local people this place has employed over the years?”
“No, but you do, so we can all rest easy.” Georgia’s voice was teasing. “You’ll also write about it in fancy articles with lots of big words I’ll try to read because you’re my sister and I love you.”
“I love you, too, but you’re impossible.” Cat ruffled Georgia’s curly, dark hair.
Luc looked between them and tried to hide a smile. “I took a few history electives in college. Like one of my professors said, if you don’t understand the past, how can you build a better future?” It was something that made sense to him on more levels than Luc wanted to admit, especially when it came to the new feelings Cat stirred up in him, feelings that had given him more than a few restless nights since Nick and Mia’s wedding.
Cat gave him a surprisingly mischievous smile. “I always knew you had hidden depths.”
His body throbbed as if to remind him of those depths, and he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.
“But does he read books?” Georgia winked.
“Sure I do.” He teased her back like he’d done when she was little. She’d been a cute kid who’d grown into a stunning woman. Even though she was the kind of woman he should have been drawn to, he wasn’t and, unlike Cat, he had no problem thinking about Georgia like a sister.
“What kind of books?” Cat tilted her head and the soft curve of her neck made his pants even tighter.
“Mysteries and thrillers mostly, or books about sports.” Books that had helped pass the time when he was on planes or in hotel rooms on road trips with the team. Or that now kept him company in the vast emptiness of Harbor House after Gabrielle had gone to bed and there wasn’t anything worth watching on TV.
“Cat reads historical fiction, where nobody ever plays sports.” Georgia’s sigh was as dramatic as that over-the-top kid she’d once been. “Her e-reader is absolutely stuffed with—”
“Georgie.” There was a flicker of irritation in Cat’s voice. “Don’t you have a class to teach? Stressed-out people to calm with downward dog or whatever?”
“Sure, but that book with the duke guy by Eloisa what’s-her-name was great and I—”
“Don’t, Georgie, please?” Cat’s voice wobbled. Slight, but still there and Luc’s heart twisted. “Just go to class.”
When Georgia had disappeared down a hallway beyond the reception desk, Cat gave a half shrug that didn’t mask the bleakness in her eyes. “Georgia has always liked to tease me.”
And although Cat would never admit it, some of that teasing had hurt her sensitive soul. “You read Eloisa James. What’s the big deal?”
“You know who she is?” Her eyes widened.
“My mom’s a big fan of her books.” He tried to keep a straight face. “I got her a signed copy of Eloisa’s latest for her birthday. Mom said I was her favorite son.”
“You’re her only son.” Cat’s lips twitched.
“If you want, I can get you a signed copy, too. Eloisa and I are buddies.” Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t hold back the laugh.
“You’re not.” Cat put her hands on her hips and gave him a teasing grin.
“I’m sure she’d remember me. I bet not too many guys turn up for her signings.” And he’d been like a fish out of water among all those women at the bookstore, especially when some of them had recognized him and he’d ended up posing for fan pictures.
“But you did, because a signed book meant a lot to your mom.” Cat’s voice became soft. “That’s sweet.”
“I’m a guy and I’m a hockey player. I’m not sweet.” His mouth went dry because when it came to Cat, maybe he was. Although it made no logical sense, if she really wanted something, whether it was a signed book by her favorite author or something bigger, he’d do his best to get it for her.
“Sure you are, but I won’t tell anyone.” Cat’s pretty laugh rippled out. “I should get back to the archives and—”
“Wait.” Luc’s heart thudded. He didn’t want her to go. He liked spending time with her. Not only that, he liked making her laugh and finding out more about what made her tick. Because she is a friend. Even though that was what he kept telling himself, the words sounded at best tired, at worst false. But he was still mourning Maggie. There no way he was ready for a relationship, so what was with the buzzing in his head and shakiness in his legs? “Georgia’s right. It’s a beautiful day and you’re stuck inside. Want to play hooky with me for an hour and go skating?”
“Skating? Do you mean on the lake?” Cat’s laughter stopped and an expression flashed across her face that looked a lot like fear.
“Sure, why not?” Why would anyone who’d grown up in Vermont be scared of skating?
“I don’t have any skates.” Her voice was high-pitched and nervous.
“You can rent them here, along with outdoor gear. I talked to the Inn manager at lunch. She said they’re starting to push winter sports to attract tourists all year.” He kept his tone low-key with no pressure. At least not overt pressure, even though all of a sudden he wanted to skate with Cat more than he’d wanted to do anything in a very long time.
“I don’t skate.” She worried her bottom lip.
“Not ever? Not even with Amy?” That was something else that didn’t make sense. Why was Amy so hockey crazy if Cat hadn’t ever joined her on the ice?
“I went once with my dad, but after that, no.” She fiddled with the cuff of her sweater and avoided his gaze.
“Oh.” Luc paused. Nowadays, Cat’s dad, Brian McGuire, was almost forgotten. But when Luc was a kid, Brian had skipped town after embezzling money from the family law firm, and the scandal had taken years to subside.
“I can teach you to skate. I bet you’re a natural.” She might not be athletic, but Cat had an innate grace to her.
“I… I…” She tugged on one of her delicate silver earrings.
“You’re not a real Vermonter if you don’t skate. Besides, the arena has family skating on Friday nights. If you learn, it’s something you and Amy could do together. I bet she’d love it. Skating outdoors is even better, though.” Although he couldn’t remember the last time he’d skated on an outdoor rink, it was probably right here in Firefly Lake.
“What if I fall?” Her voice was uncertain.
“Everybody falls sometimes, but I can teach you how to fall so you won’t hurt yourself and help you get up again.” Which would give him the perfect excuse to touch her. Luc’s body flooded with warmth and his fingers tingled. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Trust me?”
She raised her head and her rosy lips parted. “Amy’s always trying to get me to skate.” She gave him a smile that was tentative but determined. “I guess it’s time I tried.”
In the wooden warming shelter by the lake, Cat clutched the tops of the white figure skates with fingers that were chilled, even inside her gloves. Her heart raced and she pressed a hand to her chest. Luc asking her to trust him didn’t mean anything important, even though her dad had said those exact same words to her so many times she’d lost count. Yet, despite all those promises, he’d still walk
ed out of her life and hadn’t come back.
She wouldn’t think about that or about Amy’s dad, either. She’d moved on years ago. The past was done, and if she hadn’t dealt with it, she’d accepted it. That had to be enough.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Luc crouched in front of where she sat on the low plank bench—big, male, and oh-so-enticing. “We’ve got the lake to ourselves this afternoon.” He already had his skates on, a larger version of the ones Amy wore. In his black parka with a black headband covering his ears, he could have stepped out of an “Experience Winter in Vermont” tourist brochure.
Cat stuck her left foot into what she hoped was the left skate. Maybe it was good there was nobody else around. She wouldn’t have an audience while she tripped over her feet—or him. She licked her lips and tried to focus on tying a bow with the lace.
“That’s right, pull it tight.” Luc ran his gloved hand over the boot of her skate. “Minnie Mouse socks?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Amy’s cast-offs. Her feet were bigger than mine a few years ago.” Her face heated. Not only was she as short as a kid, the socks made her look like one. She wedged her right foot into the other skate and laced it tight.
“Cute.” Luc patted Minnie’s jaunty bow. Cat’s stomach fluttered and her palms got damp. He scrambled to his feet and held out a hand, as comfortable on those thin skate blades as he was in shoes or boots. “Put one foot in front of the other like you’re marching.” Luc helped her move onto the ice and demonstrated.
“Like this?” Cat held her breath, lifted one skate up, and put it down fast.
“Perfect.” His tone was warm. “If you feel like you’re going to fall, try to go forward so you can get up from your knees.” He showed her.
Cat knelt on the ice, then gingerly stood up again.
“Now try that marching thing once more.”
Even though her muscles quivered, she took several tentative steps. Not only were her skates disconnected from the rest of her body, she seemed to have acquired several extra arms and legs she didn’t know what to do with.
“You’re doing great.” There was a gentle smile in Luc’s voice.
Cat inched ahead again. Under her skates, the milky-blue ice was as smooth as glass. Beneath it, though, was the same friendly Firefly Lake that she’d swum in each summer of her childhood.
“I’m skating, sort of.” She ventured a quick glance upward. A hint of beard stubble grazed Luc’s jaw, and he was so close she smelled the clean, woodsy scent of his aftershave.
“You sure are. Skating’s harder as an adult if you didn’t learn as a kid, but if you relax, it’s easier.” A slow smile spread across his face as he held her gaze.
As if relaxing around him—or on skates—would ever be easy. She swallowed and focused on her feet again.
He took both her hands in his and pushed backward so Cat glided along with him. “We’ll head a little farther out to enjoy the scenery.” His voice was solid and reassuring.
When she looked up again, tall pine trees stood guard along the shore beyond the inn. Overhead, the sky was a brilliant blue cradled by green hills dusted with snow-like filigree. “I’d forgotten how beautiful winter is here.” Secure in Luc’s grasp, she inclined her head toward the small island that formed a rocky, tree-girdled bump in the middle of the lake. “When I was little, we used to take a boat out to that island and picnic.”
“I did that with my family, too. My granddad and I pretended we were deserted mariners like Robinson Crusoe.” Luc picked up speed, and the wind lifted Cat’s hair beneath her hat. “The crew is building my new house in the curve of the lake beyond the inn. That land used to belong to my grandparents. When they passed, each of their grandkids got a share. It’s where I’ve always wanted to live. See?” He took one hand away from hers to point to where a roofline dipped into the trees near the shore.
Cat squeaked and grabbed his hand again.
“Don’t be scared.” He glided to a stop, and she bumped against him. His blue eyes shone, and she licked her lips.
“I’m not.” At least not much. The flutter in her stomach wasn’t nerves, exactly. It was more being alone with Luc in the middle of this vast, white wilderness that was like a snow globe come to life—both a landscape and a man that were and weren’t familiar. She gulped and as her knees went weak, she reminded herself to breathe.
“My property goes right down to the lake shore. If I want, I can have a skating rink outside my back door.” His deep laugh rumbled. “Remember the rink my dad made in my folks’ backyard every winter? It must have been tough on my mom, with all the neighborhood kids tracking in and out of the house wanting snacks and the bathroom for weeks on end, but she never complained.”
“Your parents are great.” Although her mom had done her best, the Simard family was the kind Cat had longed for growing up. The TV movie kind of family with two parents who loved each other and weren’t afraid to show it. Not a family like hers that people talked about in hushed voices at the grocery store. Back then, she’d vowed that if she ever became a mom, her kids would have a different life. Instead, she’d ended up a single parent and hadn’t even managed to give Amy a real family— no father and no brothers or sisters, either.
The familiar pain rippled through her as she clutched Luc’s hands and he towed her around the makeshift rink in a big circle. “Skating’s not so hard, is it?” There was nothing but gentle encouragement in his voice. No teasing, only a rock-solid belief she could do this that helped her believe it, too.
Cat risked another glance upward and bumped into his parka, her nose barely reaching the midpoint of his chest. “I’m holding on to you in a death grip.” And despite their winter clothes, every nerve end in her body stirred with his nearness.
He squeezed her hands through their gloves. Despite the cold weather, her body was warm. “It takes time to get used to the feeling of the ice. Seeing as you’re so convinced you’re not the athletic type, how did Amy get into hockey?”
Cat tried to focus on his question and not how his voice resonated like a caress. “She went skating with a friend from Harvard and her son. We traded babysitting duty so we’d both have time to study. As soon as Amy saw a group of boys playing hockey, she wanted to try it too. Once she did, she never looked back, so I tutored to earn the extra money to pay for her hockey program.” When Cat looked back on them, those years were a caffeine-fueled blur of late nights that had melded into endless days when she’d barely managed to put one foot in front of the other.
“Amy’s lucky to have you as her mom.” Luc’s voice roughened. “Not many parents would have done what you did.”
“I did what I had to.” Like she always did. Her chest got tight. Between Amy and school, it sometimes seemed she’d missed out on her twenties and had forgotten how to have fun. “What do I need to do next?” If she changed the subject, maybe Luc wouldn’t see her hurt or regrets. She made herself give him a sunny smile.
He slowed to a stop and let go of her hands. “Like you did before, put one foot in front of the other and move toward me.”
Cat lifted her right skate up and put it down again. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“You won’t go fast enough to have to stop. Besides, I’ll be right here in front of you.”
“What if I knock you over?” Her ankles buckled, and the skates rolled inward before Luc snagged her arm.
“Two-hundred-pound guys used to knock me over whenever I stepped onto the ice.” His laugh was rich and sexy. “For some of them, it was part of their job description to take me out. I’m not worried about a little bitty thing like you.”
She should have been offended, but something in Luc’s tone when he said “little bitty thing” made it an endearment, rather than a variation of the taunt about her small size she’d heard all her life. “Like this?” Cat’s skate blades propelled her across the ice toward him.
“You’ve got it, but hold out your arms to help keep your balance.”
&
nbsp; Cat raised her arms like he showed her and moved forward again.
“Don’t forget to breathe.” Luc glided backward but stayed in arm’s reach. “You’ve got it. Looking good, Minnie.” He grinned, a crooked tilt upward of his mouth that turned Cat’s insides to jelly.
“Minnie?” She clenched her hands briefly and looked at her skates that seemed to have taken on a life of their own.
“Your socks.” Good-natured teasing and something darker that skittered along her nerve ends edged his mellow voice.
“Amy’s, remember?” She lifted her head and her breathing quickened. The man she’d known her whole life still glided in front of her. Except, his teasing had a sensuality that had never been there before. “I… I…” She stuttered as one of her skates caught a ridge in the ice.
“Watch your toe pick.” Luc reached out to balance her, and his touch lingered on her arm.
She nodded, her initial fear replaced by an unfamiliar excitement that swirled and fizzed, making her lightheaded. “I’m skating. I can’t believe it. Amy won’t, either.” Cold air kissed her cheeks, her body was relaxed, not stiff, and she inhaled deeply as she held her arms out wide and let her skates carry her farther forward. Firefly Lake in winter had its own smell, a timeless blend of crisp snow, spicy pine, and smoke from a hundred fireplaces.
“You sure are.” Luc clapped his hands and the sound reverberated in the white stillness.
Cat did another step-and-glide combination and finished with an impromptu twist that brought her closer to him again.
“You’re still feisty, too.” Humor lit his blue gaze. “I always liked that about you, Minnie.”
Her pulse raced and butterflies took flight in the pit of her stomach. “If you keep calling me Minnie, I’ll have to find a name for you.”
“Go ahead.” He spun in a circle. “Minnie fits you. Not only is she feisty and smart, but she’s cute and a whole lot sassy, too.”
This was Luc. If it had been any other man, she’d have thought he was flirting with her, but Luc had never flirted with her. And even if Cat had been the kind of woman that men flirted with, she’d forgotten how to flirt back, if she’d ever known.